


now that i found you

by gyuglued



Series: after everything we have been through, the gods led me back to you [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Attempt at Sexual Tension, Jihoon is basking in it, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of past abuse, Politics, Possessive Kim Mingyu, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyuglued/pseuds/gyuglued
Summary: Lee Jihoon has escaped from the hands of his captor and after a month long of hiding, he arrives at the camp of the new King of the South.The kingdoms are in an uproar.The people are rallying behind a new king.The gods have deemed it worthy for soulmates to meet once more.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Series: after everything we have been through, the gods led me back to you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024548
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	now that i found you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thanku4urlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanku4urlove/gifts).



> written for my lovely anna who encourages me to write more. 
> 
> This is a part of a series and this is how i imagined how the reunion would happen. I hope you guys enjoy.

Jihoon has been walking for two full days, making stops during the night but only to rest his legs and his heart. He does not sleep, for he should be vigilant if he wants to survive. He has long left his dead horse on the cave two nights ago, he buried the creature and prayed for half an hour and hoped that its soul will feel how grateful he is. The horse is the first creature that he has felt to be his true friend after four long years of captivity. He avoids the main road, for if someone would see him and recognize his eyes, his skin, or his hair they would either bring him back to the person he’s running from or worse kill him.

The only way he knows where he is headed is by taking advantage of his poor state of look; ragged with his whole body wrapped around a dirty cloak with matching dirty linens around his face, small and limping stature which makes the people wary and better when they ignore him. He has been blending in bars listening to men and women who talk about the army two towns away, he has slept in farms and woke up to farmers talking about the army only a town away.

He is headed to the army, he is headed to where _he_ is.

That is why when he journeys the forest he follows the strong breeze, he is just by the main road when he encounters a group of people carrying a dead deer, he quickly hides for they appear to have been hunting in full armor. Jihoon trails behind the group of men slowly and quietly as he can and as he follows the men, the noises come in strong every step he takes.

Men and women shouting, swords clanking and horses neighing, a camp of an army.

Jihoon stops at where he is able to see the tents, he hides behind a tree with a trunk so wide it will hinder anyone from seeing him. He steps closer, ducking to remain hidden and in this view he gets a better look of the camp.

Jihoon sees a flag and he almost loses his footing.

The flag has his family sigil, the flag has his family color.

A golden eagle.

A red flag.

Jihoon stumbles down the hill, he has not eaten nor drank anything for a day but the rush of safety is so near and the thought has gotten him on the ground without any time wasted. He picks himself up and the ruckus that he made must have been loud because soldiers were on to him in a second.

“Halt! What is your business here?”

This soldier could have not known him; the accent he has says south but he could not have known Jihoon. He has grown and all the years of what he has gone through has changed him. The people would not recognize him as the prince. He is aware of how he looks right now, rugged and bruised and suspicious.

“Please soldier, I need to see Mingyu.” He begs.

“Mingyu?” The other one chimes and scoffs, “That is our King! Address him properly.”

“Yes. The King.” Jihoon replies as he nods frantically, “Please tell him that I’m here, that Lee Jihoon is here. He would want to see me.”

“Who are you?” Another one spoke, “Are you a spy?” 

“No!” Jihoon’s mouth has turned dry and his head is spinning. Mingyu is so _close_ , Mingyu is so near yet the heavens might not let them see each other. The gods has been cruel to him all these years and if they won’t give this to him – this relief, then he might curse them for all they are.

He tries to make a run for it but he is blocked instantly by the armored men. The commotion he’s making has gathered a crowd and the shouting has soon escalated. Jihoon is about to cry, he has begged and yet the soldiers crowd him with questions and their hands are on the hilt of their swords. His hands are folded in a cry and for the last time, with every strength he has left in his tired body, he screams Mingyu’s name.

The angry crowd grows silent so fast that it causes Jihoon to look around. The soldiers disperse as he messily wipes the tears on his cheeks and when his face and eyes clear he then sees _him._

His presence enough caused the ruckus to stop, the crowd to disperse and for the tears to start forming in Jihoon’s eyes again.

Jihoon takes the first breath of relief for the first time in a long time, he takes a few steps forward, unsure if he will ever be near welcome but he sees Mingyu abandon the things on his hand and dump them as he begins to open his arms wide.

Jihoon runs, he _runs,_ and Mingyu opens his arms wider as he takes long strides ready to catch him. Mingyu is taller now, Mingyu’s arms are wider now, Mingyu is different. But one thing that has not changed after all these years is if Jihoon runs to him; Mingyu, without a doubt, will be ready to catch him.

He leaps when there is only one more step between them and the moment he feels the first inch of Mingyu’s skin, he takes them all in like a starved man. Jihoon does not cry, he holds his breath and he holds on so tight that he might bruise the king of the south.

The king does not say anything, he is holding on just as tight that Jihoon might bruise. But Jihoon does not mind if they do. If they do then this bruises would be welcome, this bruises are the ones he does not want to fade.

Jihoon remembers caressing the king’s hair and losing consciousness.

He wakes up warm and dark and he jolts up thinking that he is back to the cave he hid all these time but he recognizes a tent and the warmth of a coat around him. He hears a shift of clothes and he turns to the other side of the bed and sees Mingyu on a chair only waking up.

“You’re awake.”

His voice has gotten deeper.

Jihoon nods and Mingyu stands up only to fetch a tankard from the table right beside them, he hands it to him and Jihoon takes a sip of freshwater again. He drinks it all, sipping until the last drop and hands back the mug.

“Thank you.” He utters voice barely audible for all the shouting must have made his voice hoarse.

They are then interrupted again by a soft call of _‘Your Majesty,’_ from the entrance of the tent and Jihoon gets a whiff of something close to warm food. Mingyu speaks at the person and then heads to the bed side to put the tray down.

“Here, you need to eat Jihoon.”

He did not need to be told twice. The only decent food he ever got to eat was a month old loaf of bread. When he is done and Mingyu has put away the tray of food, they are back to sharing the silence but Jihoon breaks it for he cannot bear the weight of it anymore.

“We should have never left the South.”

“We never knew what was going to happen.” Mingyu stares at him and averts his eyes, “Forgive me.”

Jihoon smiles. This conversation is just like what he had dreamed about, Mingyu still asks for forgiveness in things he never had any control over.

“There is nothing to forgive.”

Mingyu still with his eyes averted, sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He swallows and exhales through his mouth, it’s as if talking to him is taking him back to when they have last seen each other, “If I did not push you away I could have kept you safe.”

“My father was marrying me off to a prince from the east.” Jihoon retells.

Mingyu does not reply and his eyes flicker back to Jihoon’s face.

“I remember asking for your hand,” Jihoon quietly says, “but you refused.”

“I am only lowborn my dear,” Mingyu’s lips thin and Jihoon remembers this exact same conversation in the past. “I could not have given you anything.”

Jihoon is too tired to recall this, to repeat the history of how he got lost and angry and then ultimately made the decision that led him to his and his family’s doom. He grunts and settles back in bed, Mingyu stands up to properly lay the coat over him and just like that the tension dissolves.

“I will let you sleep.” Mingyu nods and he walks away to put the chair just by the table on the other side of the bed.

“Where will you be going?”

“I have to talk to my men,” Mingyu explains while putting one candle out and leaving the other one to leave a cast a soft light in the tent.

Jihoon watches him, “Come see me tomorrow? To prove to me that this isn’t a dream.”

Mingyu smiles at his request, so soft and so understanding making Jihoon feel light in the heart and heavy on the eyes, “Whatever you need. Now sleep, let us talk more tomorrow.”

They have not talked since that day for Jihoon has been spending his time resting. He eats and then he sleeps. Minghao—the steward, has been helping him regain his strength by keeping him company and giving him fresh food on the table. Jihoon finds Minghao very calm and kind which throws him off once in a while for he did not experience pure genuine kindness in these past years.

“Would you want to get another coat? That one needs a wash.”

Jihoon looks on the one draped on his frame, “I do not want to part with it. It is very calming and comfortable.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Minghao raises a brow and hums as he fixes the table.

“Why?” Jihoon shifts in his seat, intrigued with the steward’s response. “What was that look?”

“Not worth talking about my lord.”

“I have time.” He insists.

Minghao sighs and turns to him with a grin on his face, “It is very comfortable for you because it is made off of the finest materials and also because that is the King’s coat.”

Jihoon’s eyes bulge, “This is Mingyu’s?”

Jihoon properly caresses the coat this time for any clues he might have missed. And when he gets to the leather and sees an eagle in gold embroidered he drops his hold and shakes his head. Ah, this is the King’s coat. 

Minghao chuckles, “Yes. The King has been walking around without a coat on because you refused to give it back to him.”

Jihoon scowls and grunts, “I will if he ever even visit me.”

He wakes up panting one night, hand on his chest as he catches his breath. He looks around as he wipes the sweat formed on his neck and forehead. A chair, a table, he’s on a bed and he has a coat on. He’s okay, he’s safe. His harsh breathing calms down and he notices the tent next to his, it’s lamp is lit and he sees a figure hovering on a chair.

Jihoon can’t remember how he found sleep that night. But he remembers staring at the shadow of a man on the chair.

When Jihoon has had enough strength to carry his own legs, the first thing he does is put up a chair outside and bask under the sunlight. Feeling safe and not looking out for any possible enemy while enjoying the sun has not been an option for him when he was on the run. But now, he does it. He welcomes the muddy scent of the camp and the fresh breeze of the mountains.

He is on his way on falling asleep on the chair when he perceives a familiar man walking to him, Jihoon could not speak until the man nears him and bows.

“Ser Wonwoo, it’s so good to see you.”

“My lord,” Wonwoo bows and beams, “I never thought I would see you again.”

The man carries himself with pride, the first son of House Jeon ought to be. One of the few houses that is loyal to House Lee and now Jihoon’s heart calms by coming to the realization that Mingyu fights beside strong allies. 

Jihoon smiles just as wide, “Likewise. I hope your mother is in good health.”

The soldier’s smile grows even wider, “You remember her?”

“Of course.” Jihoon replies, “You stepped on my foot on our last dance because you were worried sick of her.”

Wonwoo nods at him at the mention of the memory, a smile so tender casts on his face. “Yes— I did apologize for that and as my mother, she is well the last time I saw her. I hope you are well now that you and the king have reunited.”

Jihoon scowls, “If he cares about me then he could visit me once or twice.”

“The strategy for all the plans have shifted. He has been very thorough and careful about the next steps.” Wonwoo chuckles, “Also, you can’t have missed him since his tent is beside yours.”

Jihoon looks up to the soldier so swift, “His—”

“Tent.” Wonwoo repeats looking at him with confused brows. “He ordered us to put it right beside his own just around when you collapsed, never have seen him so shaken like that not even before a battle especially after—”

Wonwoo stops himself and looks at Jihoon with the words hanging in the air between both of them. Jihoon breathes in deep and he looks down.

The resurrection.

The soldier gives him a smile and Jihoon clicks his tongue, “He does not talk to me about it.”

Wonwoo looks up to bustling camp, “Then he must have a reason.”

“I want to know what happened.”

“So do I but no one has ever succeeded on knowing the whole truth, but I think you can. You have a big influence on him whether you see it or not.” The soldier turns to him and winks, “Oh look, here he comes.”

Jihoon mumbles and turns to where Wonwoo is observing and sees the King on to them, walking briskly and sporting a scowl on his face.

Mingyu halts and only spares Wonwoo a quick glance and rests his scowling face to Jihoon’s way, “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I am.” Jihoon gestures to himself, “I’m sitting.”

“Why are you outside?"

Jihoon gestures to the sky this time, “I needed the sunlight,”

“Well, if you excuse me my lord,” Wonwoo cuts and he looks at Jihoon, “Ask anything from me my lord and House Jeon will rally behind your cause.” He bows to him and turns to Mingyu, “Your Majesty.”

Wonwoo bows to him again but this time Jihoon can see the mischief in his eyes. The soldier walks away and not long after that Mingyu walks up close.

“What did he want?” The King’s voice cuts through; voice laced with irritation.

Jihoon gives him a raised brow and thought of Wonwoo and how he did this with the intention of irking the King.

“He only talked to me about my health.”

“He looked keen about that.”

Jihoon huffs, “He sounded concerned.”

“Did he?” Mingyu steps in his view, “I remember him asking for your hand in marriage.”

“Oh,” Jihoon cringes, “Right.”

“Did he ask again?” Mingyu asks.

The question stops Jihoon from scowling at the sky and his eyebrows stays still as he eyes the man with the question. Jihoon considers. Even after all these years, Mingyu try and acts nonchalant but ends up spilling his jealousy. Jihoon chuckles and shakes his head. 

“I told you, we only talked about my health.”

A strong wind fans Jihoon’s face as he looks up to Mingyu. “You look like you want to say something.”

Mingyu flexes his hand and coughs, “Dine with me tonight.”

The King looks flustered.

“I have been here for almost two weeks. Why now?”

“I have been very busy,” Mingyu reasons and his hands fail to stop from opening and closing.

Jihoon slowly stands up to fully get the king’s attention, “Not even a meal with me?”

“I was letting you rest.” Mingyu gestures to the chair, “And— and now that you had and you have blood on your cheeks, will you please dine with me?”

Jihoon thinks for a full minute; basking in the different worried expressions on the king’s face, of the thought that he might refuse the request. Jihoon begin to smile and he sees the relief visible as the king’s shoulder.

“All right.” Jihoon nods.

The dinner that the King of the South designed is soup and ale on the table. War meant that they have so little supply to spare yet Jihoon does not mind this at all. He is well content eating with Mingyu inside a tent, safe and sound while wearing a coat that is making him warm.

He places the bowl down and eyes Mingyu on the other side of the table, “That was good soup.”

Mingyu chuckles and brings the mug to his mouth, “This dinner is better than what they usually give me. They want to impress you.”

Jihoon laughs but he could see that Mingyu barely touched his food, noting that the king barely ate. “That can’t be it.”

“Everyone wants to keep you comfortable, as they should.” Mingyu points out settling down the mug with a soft thud.

Jihoon nods, “I could have never asked for more. I have been treated well.”

Mingyu nods and he starts to play with the fabric on the table, “I apologize for being absent. The plans have shifted and the changes are hard to push through.”

Jihoon puts down his spoon noticing the sudden shift of the atmosphere, “Were you planning on riding a horse and galloping inside the court and rescue me?”

He offered what he said in a playful tone but his smile drop as he eyes the man on the other side of the table.

Mingyu looks at him dead in the eyes with a snarl on his mouth. “I was ready to get my knuckles bloody for you.”

Jihoon swallows and he takes the mug of ale.

“Have they disgraced you?”

Jihoon stop mid-sip from the awful ale and he carefully place down the mug. “No… no.” He shakes his head. “He knew that I was still valuable and can be married off so he never did.”

“Jihoon,” This tone right now does not sound a request but an order. He considers for a moment. If he tells a lie, Mingyu will see right through him just as he has now. If he tells him the truth, he fears that the king will go forth his plan of charging to the east.

Jihoon does not want Mingyu to be anywhere near east. Anyone tender to Jihoon does not dwell well in the east.

The King has ordered him to answer and Jihoon is but an only a loyal subject. So he gathers strength and spill out the words.

“He almost,”

Mingyu’s tapping fingers stop and the sneer turns something akin to a wolf. “That piece of shit.”

Jihoon exhales rather harshly for his own good. The anger that the other person feels is not surprising to him but he never really thought about how the reaction is making him feel. The reaction holds more weight now that it comes from Mingyu. Jihoon averts his eyes and looks around the tent, there seems to be more candle light right now for he feels hot. He fans himself and feels his cheek, he must be getting a fever. He looks back to Mingyu and the man still has not changed his expression, the light coming from the lamp, lights one side of Mingyu’s face and the other casts to the shadow. He looks soft this way, Jihoon considers. And yet there is absolutely nothing soft about him.

The years have been cruel and the years apart have made Jihoon compare the Mingyu he had and the Mingyu he has now. The angular face under the beard, the hair tied, the strong shoulders and the chest that is usually hidden by his coat and armor are out in the open, tonight with him, Mingyu is not the king but his… whatever they are.

Jihoon gathers his bearings and steers the conversation and he settles with a question, “Mingyu, do you ever sleep?”

“I do.” Comes Mingyu’s swift reply.

Liar. Now that Jihoon knows that the tent next to his is Mingyu’s, he recalls the many nights he is awoken by a sound, or by the light of a lamp lit inside the tent beside his.

He wakes up every night and yet the candle is lit, a figure still moves.

Does the King ever sleep?

“Mingyu,” Jihoon calls and the other perks up while fiddling with his fork. Jihoon sees it, the lightness of the atmosphere and the rarity of these dinners for the future. So he swallows all the questions that he has and all the answers that he needs.

Mingyu is here.

It’s what matters the most.

He shakes his head, “Nothing, I just want to ask. Can you teach me how to properly handle a blade?”

Jihoon cannot sleep. He turns about, pulls the cloak up to his neck. Too hot. He pushes the cloak away and yet his body freezes. He decides to sleep later and he hoists himself up, he must have had too much to drink during dinner that his insides and mind are not cooperating for sleep. He eyes the coat and decides to put it on, it has gathered much dirt for it is longer than him and drags on the ground when he walks, he sneers in the memory of the owner’s tall stature.

He wants to feel the cool air and he walks just outside the tent but he stops in his track and sees a man sharpening a sword. Jihoon walks up to the familiar silhouette of Mingyu. He clears his throat and Mingyu turns to him, stopping his task to offer him a smile.

“I can’t sleep.”

Mingyu tilts his head, “Come sit with me.”

Jihoon obliges and he sits just right beside him. He huffs and grips the coat, he watches the stars for a bit and think back to the time when his only solace was staring at the moon and thinking that his family and his people, at least, is under the same sky.

Mingyu takes a long sharpen of his sword. “Do you need me to call a healer?”

Jihoon turns to him, “What for?”

“He has herbs and medicine that can help you sleep.”

Jihoon hums, “No need.”

Mingyu hums returning to his task.

“Why are you not asleep?” Jihoon probes once more.

“Same as you.”

And yet Mingyu still gives him vague answers.

Jihoon ties the coat in his neck in order to keep it from falling as he decides to stretch, he’s sticking both his hands near the fire for warmth and he hears Mingyu stop. Jihoon knows what the other sees and he knows one way or another this conversation needed to happen.

He does not mind. If someone were to see them then he ever only chooses Mingyu.

The King puts down his sword and carefully opens his palm as Jihoon offers both of his hands. They are closer now that the king is inspecting his palms, up to his arms and up to his eyes.

“These are old and new.”

Jihoon nods, “Every time he got word of the advancements of your army he calls me out to the court and demonstrates how his traitors will end up.”

Mingyu twists each of his arm and sees, “Are there more?”

“Have you ever lose a battle?” Jihoon asks in a quiet voice, “I do not blame you.” He quickly supplies and yet the wrinkle in Mingyu’s brows does not fade. “Each time, when they call me to court and I see the fury in his eyes, I breathe a sigh of relief…”

“Every beating they do,” Mingyu’s voice is as soft as his touch on his palms. “I am closer to you.”

“Yes.”

Jihoon grips the hands holding his and pulls them closer. “It was not your fault. It was him who ordered to beat me, he was a coward enough that he could not even use his own hands to strike.”

_You could not for you were dead._

You could not for you have fought so hard for your own life and fought so hard for the army supporting you now.

“Do you want revenge?” Mingyu asks and the softness is gone and there is only rage bubbling and nearing to spill.

Jihoon grips the hands tighter and breathes in hard for he knows.

If Jihoon only asks, Mingyu will do anything for him.

“No.” Jihoon shakes his head and he sighs, “I only want to go home. Take back our home from the one who stole it. Take back what is ours, bring back peace and stop the terror. I fear for our people, they have suffered enough.”

Mingyu nods at him and drops the hold of his hands rather gently, “Of course. If I don’t bring you back home safely, your mother’s ghost will come after me.”

Jihoon snorts, “You bet she would and also my father’s ghost. He will use his voice—”

Mingyu chuckles, “Oh gods, his voice when he talks to his subjects.”

Jihoon laughs and basks from the warmth of the fire and from the first sound of laughter Mingyu has ever shown him after all these time. He keeps it in his head, storing it into a place where all of his good memories come from. He locks it into his heart because that is where every laughter from the man in sitting in front of him is stored.

Mingyu’s laughter is short and quiet, the next emotion in his face turns somber and he looks at Jihoon, “When we come back, the rest of the noble lords will not accept me. They would think I stole your crown and the other would fight for the right they think I earned.”

“You are King.” Jihoon firmly replies, emphasizing each word to engrain on Mingyu’s head, “These men rally behind you because they believe that you can do well at ruling. The men at our country will see it. They have to.”

“Yet I do not have your father’s name.” Mingyu retorts.

“Yes you don’t.” Jihoon waits for a beat until Mingyu looks him in the eyes, “But I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mingyu does not have the Lee name but Jihoon does so what do they have to do to solve this problem hmmmmmm. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! This was written faster than I thought and I am glad and weirded out by myself, it’s probably because I love the plot. I have never written something this long after *the healer and the prince* 
> 
> Been feeling insecure about writing and yet I put this out so im super nervous but also feel elation as I press publish, I have a weird relationship with writing lol
> 
> Also I scream about the two of them [ here](https://twitter.com/gyuglued_)


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